Chapter 1 #2
“For six months?” Avril raises her eyebrows, “A break is like a week, Zoe. Six months is a breakup.”
“So, why did he invite me to the wedding next Saturday if we are completely over?”
“Because he doesn’t have a date.”
I roll my eyes, she’s so annoying. “Oh, shut up, he could get plenty of dates. His mom told me he wants me back.”
“His mother wants you back, Rodney has said no such thing.”
“He’s going to ask me to get back together, I can feel it in my waters.”
“Oh, please,” she scoffs. “Why would you even want him to? He breaks your heart and then clicks his fingers, and what, you’re supposed to fall straight back into his arms?”
“We’ve been together for six years, Avril. He was going through something and needed to find himself. Relationships aren’t all rosy, things get hard sometimes, and you need to support your partner through the challenges.”
“He hasn’t been finding himself, he’s been finding out what other vaginas feel like.”
“Not helping,” I snap.
“Besides,” she points at me with her spoon, “is he supporting his partner? What support has he given your poor broken heart?
“Look, I’ve made a promise to myself that if he doesn’t want to talk about recommitting to our relationship at the wedding, then that’s it.”
“What’s it?”
“I’m moving on.”
“With the hot cop?”
I sip my coffee as I let my mind wander to Dylan for a moment. “He felt familiar.”
“Hot familiar?” Avril teases.
“Definitely hot.”
“You should ask him out.”
I smile, wouldn’t that be something? “I don’t have his number even if I wanted to.”
Avril shrugs, “You never know, maybe he’ll pop up again one day.”
“Maybe.” I sip my coffee with a shrug.
But deep down, I know I’ll probably never see him again.
The music is loud, and the cocktails are delicious, the girls and I have had the best time.
It’s Saturday night and we’ve been dancing, laughing, and telling lies to poor unsuspecting men.
My name is Ursula, and I’m happily married.
Avril is now a brain surgeon, and Macey is a stripper; our fake identities are so much more fun than our real ones.
Men are so gullible, or maybe they aren’t and just like the game.
It’s 4 a.m. and we are on our way home in an Uber, the three of us are jammed into the backseat.
“My feet are so screwed.” Macey winces as she takes her shoe off. “I think my pinkie toe is back on the dance floor.”
I giggle and look out the window as the car pulls up to a set of traffic lights.
My eyes roam over the people on the packed sidewalk and then I see him, standing on the curb talking to a group of men. He’s wearing jeans and a T-shirt; he mustn’t be working.
“Dylan.”
“Who?” Avril frowns.
“The hot cop.”
“Where?”
“Just there.” Before I know it, I’m winding down the window. “Dylan,” I call.
He glances up and smiles broadly, he comes bounding out into three lanes of traffic and over to my window. “The beautiful Zoe.” He takes my hand through the window and lifts it to his lips and kisses the back of it. “We meet again, off the clock this time.”
I smile goofily up at the god.
“Holy shit,” Avril slurs. “You’re the cop?”
Dylan’s eyes dance with delight, he knows I’ve told them about him.
“Where are you going?” he asks me, my hand still in his.
“Home,” I gush, seriously this is the hottest man who ever walked the planet.
His eyes dance with mischief, and I can tell he’s been drinking way too much, like me.
“No, you’re not. You’re coming with me.” He tries to open my door, but it’s locked.
“Go away.” The driver tells him.
Dylan smiles. “Come with me.”
“What?” I laugh.
“The night is young. Don’t go home, Princess Zoe.” He leans in through the window so that he’s waist deep into our car and grabs my face, “We didn’t even kiss yet.” He smiles cheekily.
What?
“Did we?”
I’m shocked to silence, is this really happening?
He grabs a handful of my hair and kisses me.
A car horn sounds from behind, and Avril and Macey laugh out loud.
His lips are big and soft and even fuzzy drunk, I feel all tingly.
The traffic lights turn green.
He goes to deepen the kiss, and I pull back, “Dylan.” I laugh, what the hell, he wants to full-on tongue kiss in front of everyone? What must the driver think?
“Get out of the car, Zoe.” He laughs as he holds my face to his, I get the giggles, this is crazy.
“Come with me.” His lips take mine again, “I’ll teach you some mechanical jobs. We can change tires together,” he whispers against my lips, “Look that car over there has a flat.”
“No, it doesn’t,” I scoff.
“It will in a minute.”
I laugh out loud.
He’s so fun.
Car horns sound from the traffic behind us.
“Get out of the car, man.” The Uber driver yells, but Dylan just smiles against my lips; he likes this game too.
Dylan’s friends start pulling him by his legs out of the car. “You’re not going home,” they yell at him.
“She’s coming with us,” he calls as they pull him out, I laugh and then the Uber unexpectedly speeds off.
“Zoe, come back.” I hear him yell after the car, I turn and watch him through the rearview mirror. He’s throwing his arms up in the air as he stares after our speeding car.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Macey whispers. “I can’t believe you didn’t go with him.”
My lips tingle from his kiss, and I turn back to the front, totally frazzled.
“You know, Mr. Uber Driver, that was one of those moments where you shouldn’t have driven off.”
He rolls his eyes, unimpressed. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
My lips tingle as I smile goofily out the window.
I didn’t imagine it.
Monday night.
I roll over and punch the pillow, it’s 3 a.m. and darkness has rolled in. My mind is racing, only this time it’s different, I’m not lying here wondering what Rodney is doing.
I’m thinking about Dylan.
I’m here kicking myself that I didn’t ask him where he lived, or his surname, or get out of that damn Uber and go with him. I hope he doesn’t think I’m not interested, because I am.
Really interested…. and not about flat tires, but about the thick quad muscles he had under those pants.
I get an image of him on his knees looking up at me, I always finish what I start.
I smile into the darkness.
I imagine what it would be like to sleep with a man like him. He’d be strong and rough and ready.
Powerful.
I wonder why he’s single. Was he married, has he had a breakup, or is he a player?
I have a feeling he’s a good guy. The kind of man who looks after his own… maybe it’s the uniform? I smile again at all the possibilities.
Policeman Dylan woke something up in me, something that…. if I’m honest, I haven’t felt in years. Not even with Rodney.
Excitement.
I’m freshly showered and wearing a white cotton nightgown with spaghetti straps.
My hair is wet, and I get back to decorating my Christmas tree.
I’ve put on the twinkling fairy lights and have all the baubles laid out.
I hold up the Christmas Angel and stare at her.
My most prized possession, it was the last thing my mother bought me before she passed.
She’s white with gold wings, her dress is sparkly, and she’s wearing a halo.
As soon as I put her on the tree, I’m reminded that all is well in the world, that I’m okay, and I’ve made it another year without my mum.
This angel is special, no idea why she holds such a powerful significance, but she does.
I put her back into her box and set her to the side, she goes onto the tree last. I get back to my baubles, this year I’m going for a specific theme, the baubles are red and glittery, and the white ones are shiny and white.
I’ve even gone all out and bought new red and white cushions for my couch this year.
This place is going to look as Christmassy as fuck, if it’s the last thing I do.
“Knock, knock.” Sounds on the front door. It’s a forceful knock, as if someone is pissed off.
“Knock, knock.” Sounds again.
I frown, who the hell is that?
I go to the front door and peer out the peephole onto my front porch.
Dylan.
What the……
I can’t unlock the door fast enough, and I burst the door open and there he stands, all 6ft3 gorgeous inches of him, he’s in full uniform, and wearing his hat.
“Dylan,” I gasp.
His sexy eyes hold mine and suddenly I remember what I’m wearing. I adjust the spaghetti strap on my nightgown.
“Good evening, ma’am, we’ve had a call reporting that there’s been a disturbance on the premises.”
My eyebrows shoot up in surprise and a smirk flashes across his face.
Huh?
I glance out to the road to see the pickup in my drive, which must be his personal vehicle, I look down to notice he doesn’t have his gun on.
He’s not working.
“Oh.”
“If you’re home alone, I’d like to search the premises,” he says all boss-like.
Excitement screams through my body, and I step aside to play along, “Of course, officer. Please, come in.”
He walks in and looks around, he goes through to the kitchen and as I follow him, I look around my house at what he is seeing for the first time, thank God I cleaned my house today. “What kind of disturbance was called in?” I ask.
“A woman in a white nightdress.” He turns toward me; his eyes drop hungrily down my body.
“She sounds like trouble.” I roll my lips to hide my smile.
“My imagination tells me that she is.”
The air crackles between us.
I have no idea what’s going on, but holy shit, it’s good.
“Do you have any dangerous weapons on your body?” he asks in his powerful police voice.
I want to play along but I also want to laugh out loud.
This is hot!
“Maybe,” I mumble.
“Maybe?” he yells. “Don’t give me a maybe, ma’am. Yes or no, do you have any dangerous weapons on your person?”
I do smile this time, unable to help it.
A smile tugs at his lips too, but he hides it well. “Answer the question.”
“I don’t have to do anything you tell me,” I spit.
In one sharp movement he grabs me, spins me around and pushes me up against the kitchen counter. “Put your hands on the counter and spread your legs.”